


First Comes Love, Then Comes Carpet, Next Comes...

by rudennotgingr



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1443757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudennotgingr/pseuds/rudennotgingr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe she won’t be a good mom and maybe he won’t want to be a dad. Because they never did talk about it. But now it’s happened and what are they going to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Comes Love, Then Comes Carpet, Next Comes...

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a comment that tinyconfusion left on one of my tumblr posts (the summary is partially pulled from that as well). Unbeta'd all mistakes are mine.

It had been six months since Bad Wolf Bay, since being trapped in Pete's World, since offering Rose the rest of _his_ forever...since she had first crashed her lips to his. Sealing his fate in a yes that had caused his now singular human heart to nearly burst out of his chest.

The adjustment to his new life had been far from perfect. There had been arguments, misunderstandings, and enough fears and doubts from both of them to fill the console room of the TARDIS. The first time they were forced to make a joint decision on _carpet_ (of all things) for the flat they were most definitely sharing, his eyes had bugged out of his head and he had dashed out the door. He had run until his calves ached and his lungs screamed for air, the steady thumping of his trainers on pavement calming his frantically beating heart. When he had returned two hours later, limping and muttering about rubbish human bodies, there had been yelling and shouting and harsh words flung from the depths of their anger and anxieties, with the sole intention to inflict harm.

But after, oh after, there had been holding on tightly and kissing and _I'm sorry_ and _I love you_. And they had made love on the remains of the carpet in the living room, taking care not to knock anymore lit candles to the floor in their flurry of passion. The fire roaring in their veins as they chased each other to completion was enough flames for them, thank you very much.

Through all of it, even when they fought, they had each other. A constant hand to hold and a comforting presence when the nightmares refused to stay buried and forgotten. He wouldn't have survived the transition to domestic living without the constant love and compassion (and never ending supply of patience) from Rose, his pink and yellow girl.

One month after the carpet debacle, the Doctor closed the front door with a kick of his foot, his hands full of the groceries he successfully managed to get all on his own without incident. Stepping more fully into the flat, a sense of unease pressed down on his shoulders and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck. He surveyed the living area, his eyes settling on the jumbled blanket on the sofa...a spilled mug laying forgotten on the coffee table, the dark contents slowly dripping onto the new carpet. Rose was no where in sight. He froze, straining his ears and trying to hear _anything_ over the erratic thundering of his heart against his rib cage.

Muffled sobs came from somewhere down the hall. 

Rose. 

The pain and distress in her cries sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through his body. Dropping the bags, the crack of something breaking hardly registered as he dashed toward the sound.

"Rose!" he shouted, nearly tripping over his own feet in his terror that something had finally happened. The universe had finally come to rip her away from him again. He knew it had only been a matter of time. There was no way he was truly lucky enough to spend the rest of his one short human life with her. The universe he knew, was not that kind.

"Rose!" he screamed as he rammed his shoulder into the door frame, coming to an abrupt stop at the entrance to their shared bedroom. "Ro--"

She was sitting in the middle of their bed with her chin resting on her knees and staring off into space. Her legs were tucked into her chest with her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her hair was still pulled back in a ponytail, but was mussed even more than usual. As if she had been absently running her hands through it or yanking on strands to fidget with, not caring how it affected her appearance. Her eyes were rimmed red and there were wet tracks coursing down her cheeks. There were several objects littered on the bed around her, but the Doctor didn't notice. Having feared the worst, he was thankful that she was here and alive. It was a relief only replaced by confusion and heartache as she rocked back and forth, choking back sobs.

He crossed the distance to their bed, sitting beside her and immediately wrapping her securely in his embrace. Fresh cries wracked her body as she clung to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He rubbed soothing circles on her back and whispered soft reassurances against her hair, occasionally speaking to her in a language no one in this universe would ever know.

After several minutes, her breathing evened out and he could no longer feel tears falling on his shirt. He leaned back and placed a hand under her chin, lifting her face to look at him. He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, and her nose until finally covering her mouth with his own. It was brief and chaste, but heartfelt and she hummed contentedly against his lips.

"Want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked gently, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against hers.

Rose worried her bottom lip and searched his eyes, an uncertainty shining in her gaze that he wasn't used to seeing.

"You can tell me," he promised, rubbing their noses together and giving her a small smile. Anything had to be better than what his mind had come up with.

She took a deep breath then slipped out of his arms and away from him. He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when she began scooping several small and mostly white objects from atop the duvet and then dropped them in his lap. He blinked furiously, picking up one thin stick at a time to examine it. His brow furrowed deeper as he looked at double lines and crosses, one after another, after another. Some part of his brain connected the dots, but an even larger part refused to accept what was staring him in the face.

"Rose..." he trailed off, swallowing around a sudden lump in his throat as he looked at one with a smiley face. "Rose...wh-what are these?"

"Pregnancy tests," she replied hesitantly, her arms folded over her chest as she sat cross legged just in front of him.

"I see." His mind raced for a solution, anything but the obvious. Because they couldn't...she shouldn't...at least he had _thought_ so. He continued to poke around the objects in his lap, half hoping they would morph into something else. Something a lot less intimidating. Maybe they weren't hers, that was a possibility wasn't it? Without thinking, he blurted it out, "And-and… _who's_ , er, pregnancy tests are they?"

"Mine." Her voice was dull and lifeless, the only emotion coloring her answer was a small flicker of hurt.

Right. Stupid question. He stared at the pile in his lap, his vision blurring as the implications came crashing down on his head. He could feel the panic start to bubble in his chest and his feet start to twitch in his trainers. But...but it was impossible. They had been careful, a silent understanding passing between them without ever voicing the concern. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Oh… _oh_. He could smack himself. They had indeed been proactive in preventing this...until a month ago. Until Rose’s prescription had changed and the doctor had warned them to use extra protection for the next 48 hours. Until he had freaked out over carpet a mere 18 hours later. Until they had been so swept up in the heat of the moment that they forgot to use extra protection. Of course. A minor domestic incident would land him in one that wasn’t so easily glossed over.

He pushed the building urge to run to a far corner of his mind. Maybe the tests in Pete's World were opposite their counterparts in the prime universe. _Maybe_ a smiley face meant 'hooray for not needing to worry about providing and caring for another life'.

"And these tests...they say...that you're..." he looked up at her, gesturing vaguely at her stomach.

"Yes," she whispered, subconsciously rubbing a hand over her belly and watching him carefully. She was holding back, he could tell by the tense lines in her shoulders.

"Right." He scrubbed a hand over his face, still not willing to fully acknowledge the situation. He grasped around for anything normal, anything that wasn't life altering. "Wait, why does it look like you rushed from the living room? You spilled tea all over our nice new carpet, just so you know."

Rose clenched her jaw, but took a deep breath and answered him calmly. "I couldn't bring myself to wait in the loo. So I brought the first test back to the sofa. And when...when the second line appeared, I panicked. Snatched it off the table and ran to take more. I had a feeling I knocked the cup over." She shrugged. "I was a bit more concerned with something else at the time."

He refocused on the pregnancy tests still resting in his lap. "Blimey, Rose. How many did you take?"

"Ten," she replied timidly and he let out a low whistle. She snapped, all the pent up feelings tumbling out in a jumble. "Doctor, what are we going to do? What if I'm a terrible mother? What if I do something wrong? What if the baby is… _different_? We never even talked about this. You probably don't even _want_ kids."

He blinked in confusion. "What? Why would you say that?"

"You freaked out last month over _carpet_. Carpet! If we end up hating that, we can just replace it. We can't do that with a child. It's a huge commitment and...and you can't even handle the upkeep of a flat. Why would you want a baby and all the things that go with it?"

She was right. Having children was one subject they had never talked about, it simply hadn't come up. Everything was still so new. They were still adjusting, still learning. Kids were supposed to be planned, timing their arrival when things were stable...more settled. That was the proper way to do it. Wasn't it? But since when had they ever done things the proper way?

He wasn't even positive it had been possibility for them. It was something he had secretly hoped for, if he was being honest with himself, but he would have been content without. He had Rose, and as long as he had her, that would be enough. But if she had asked...he would have said yes in a heart beat. One life with her, one life to make the most of.

It was true, he had over reacted about the carpet. But it wasn't the commitment or even the domestics of it all. Not really. He was still afraid that what they had wouldn't last. Not because he doubted her love for him. She had proved how much she loved him far too many times for that. And he knew there had never been, would never be, anyone else for him. They were tied to each other without the trappings of everyday human life, their souls forever drawn together by some unnameable force. That was what scared him. The obvious and definite way they were made for each other, a state of existence that the universe at large would have no trouble recognizing. The universe owed him no favors. He was terrified that the more comfortable and complacent he became in a life with Rose, the more he gave of himself...the more he unintentionally invited unseen forces to tear them apart. This time for good.

He wouldn't survive if he lost her again.

He might not ever say it out loud, but his love for her was so overwhelming, so much a part of him, that he wanted it all. Doors, carpets, a proper house. Bills, chores, planning vacations around a work schedule. Fights and making up, mistakes and doing it better the next time. The highs, the lows...all of it. This chance was a gift, and he wanted to make the most of it. His time sense might not be as acute as when he was fully Time Lord, but he could still feel the seconds slipping through his fingers like tiny grains of sand. If she wanted a house and marriage and children, he would do anything in his power to give them to her.

Wait...maybe she didn't want children? Maybe she was pushing the concern on him because she was too afraid to say she didn't want to have a baby. The sudden mental image of Rose pregnant and waddling around their flat, followed by one of a very tired, yet very beautiful, Rose rocking a newborn to sleep in her arms brought tears to his eyes. Oh, he wanted it. He wanted it with a fervor that surprised even himself. A second chance to have a real family with the person he loved most lay out before him. But it meant nothing if she didn't want it as well.

"Do you want to keep it?" he asked quietly, his voice thick and full of emotions he was trying to keep in check.

"Yes," she replied without pause, then winced and recoiled. "I mean, if you don't want to...we can...I could..." Rose bit her lip and looked away, fighting back a fresh wave of tears.

"Hey, shhh." The Doctor grabbed her hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "Look at me. Please." Her gaze slid back to him reluctantly and he grinned widely. Knowing she wanted the baby as badly as he did, going by her instant response, he felt suddenly giddy. The need to run, fizzled out of existence. He was right where he wanted to be, with Rose and their future child. Parents! They were going to be parents. Elation and excitement flooded his body, making him continue to grin like an idiot. Rose's brow was creased in confusion, reminding him he needed to reassure her that he was with her every step of the way. He tried to pull his thoughts together, tried to string words in a sentence, or several, that would clearly convey his feelings. Some where his wires got crossed and three words were all that came out of his mouth.

"I love babies."

She raised an eyebrow, but he could see her relax just the slightest. "You do realize that _having_ a baby is completely different from temporarily holding someone else's, yeah?"

"And I especially love Rose Tyler babies," he responded cheekily, delighted at the small smile she gave in return. He leaned forward, placing his arms on either side of her for support as some of the pregnancy tests tumbled from his lap. He was inches from her face when she placed a hand on his chest, halting his progress.

"Are you sure about...about this?" 

"Listen to me. I want this." He paused, covering her hand still resting on her stomach with his own and dropping a quick kiss on her lips. "With you. You are going to be a great mother. And mistakes will probably be made, from both of us, but we'll figure it out. We'll make it work. Together."

"Yeah?" She bit her lip, trying to fight a smile.

"Yes." 

"So you think we'll be ok?" She narrowed her eyes in concern, sliding her hand up from his chest to cup his cheek and he leaned into her touch.

"Rose Tyler, I think we are going to be," he closed the remaining distance and murmured against her lips, his voice slipping into a slightly Northern accent that brought a different sort of tears to her eyes, "Absolutely fantastic."


End file.
